Free The Pied Piper of Death by Richard; Forrest Page A

that it was strong enough, he swung out and hand-walked a few feet before he dropped to the ground on the far side. He seemed to be in some sort of garden. It was dark and hard to identify the plants, but they may have been roses. He pressed back against the wall.
    A shot sounded and then another.
    He automatically fell to the ground and rolled under a bush while simultaneously pulling his legs up toward his chest as he curled into a fetal position.
    Running footsteps coming toward him. They were by his side now and then gone. Whoever it was had gone past him. A man’s bouncing silhouette disappeared down the walk. He was convinced that his pounding heart and rasping breath would alarm a dozen security guards, but as he continued to lie quietly, the breathing and heart rate gradually returned to normal.
    The shots were not meant for him. Except for the distant sounds of the party the estate was quiet.
    Where were the guards? They must have heard the shots. They should have mounted a full-scale search, but evidently there wasn’t going to be any further activity. Perhaps they hadn’t heard the sounds over the noise of the party. It was just as well. He was risking his life on the inadequacy of their security, the lack of night-vision apparatus and regular patrols. The risk would be rewarded if tonight’s objective were attained.
    He had memorized a rough drawing of the estate’s interior. He knew each nook and cranny, every turn and hall of the place. He knew she would be in her room. That was where he would take her. The greatest risk in the operation would be during the last few feet. For thirty seconds he would be exposed on the balcony before her door. It was a risk that had to be taken.
    He left the protection of the wall shadows and cut across the walk and lawn until he reached the east side of the house. His trajectory had been perfect and he had arrived only four feet away from the narrow door that entered into the auxiliary pantry. He knew the door would be unlocked. He slowly turned the handle, slid inside, and pulled the door shut.
    â€œWho are you?”
    The deep voice from the shadows startled him so badly that he nearly fell. He couldn’t see anyone.
    â€œWho you?” the slurred, deep voice persisted.
    He frantically searched the narrow pantry for the voice’s owner. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he was able to see a little man sitting in the doorway of a cupboard near the floor. He clutched a bottle of brandy and stared at the world belligerently. He was dressed in formal wear that looked like a waiter’s or butler’s uniform. It took him a moment to realize that he was in a dim room with the one they called Rabbit.
    â€œI’m a friend of Paula’s.”
    The little man smirked. “Sneaking in for a little hanky-panky?”
    He nodded. It was to be a little more than that, but he wasn’t about to tell this gnome that. “I know where her room is,” he said and left the drunken elflike man inside the cabinet as he took the backstairs by twos.
    Her room was at the end of the balcony, only a few feet from the small interior stairwell. He would be exposed for only seconds as he slipped in her room.… A sliver of light seeped out from under the heavy wood door. He slipped out of the stairwell and put his hand around the brass handle and slowly turned it. He stepped inside and closed the door.
    She sat at a dressing table half surrounded by mirrors. She wore a short teddy that barely covered the top of her thighs.
    He couldn’t help but stare at her.
    She looked at his image in the mirror without turning. The hairbrush paused in midstroke as their eyes met in the mirror.
    â€œWhat do you want …?” she asked.
    â€œYou know damn well what.” He stepped toward her.
    â€œDon’t hurt me,” Paula said in a pleading voice.
    â€œCome here.” He grabbed her by the long hair that cascaded over her shoulders and